


Don’t Fall (Peterick)

by infinite_on_high



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Platonic Relationship, im not sure what this is, just bros bein bros i suppose, mania tour au, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 08:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12627498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinite_on_high/pseuds/infinite_on_high
Summary: A really short story, loosely based on the M A N I A tour show in Cleveland, the first part’s kind of upsetting but the ending is nice don’t worry





	Don’t Fall (Peterick)

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this at 12 AM don’t judge me

The platforms rose up, higher and higher toward the ceiling. Pete looked at Patrick. He smiled, acting like he was excited. Patrick smiled back.

“Don’t fall,” Pete mouthed at Patrick. Patrick laughed.

Pete didn’t laugh. He had meant that seriously, even if it had come across as a joke. The platforms scared him. Pete wasn’t scared of heights. At least, not in the traditional sense. He wasn’t scared that he would trip and fall off, he wasn’t scared that he would drop something off the platform, he wasn’t even really scared that Patrick would fall. Patrick was a competent man. He was perfectly capable of staying on the platform.

Pete carefully plucked out the bass line as Patrick started singing. People cheered. They tried to sing along. Pete tried to focus on the cheers. He tried to focus on Patrick. He tried to focus on anything but himself.

But his focus quickly shifted to his own hands, slowly playing a couple notes over and over.

_I’m such a shitty bassist,_ he thought, but pushed the thought from his head. Still, the little voice wouldn’t go away.

_Shitty bassist. Shitty bassist. What a fucking idiot. Haven’t you learned anything after being in this band for so long?_

Pete tried to silence it. He looked around. The crowd became a blur. Patrick’s beautiful words became dissonant nonsense. Patrick himself became a dim glow, handsome as ever but somehow unable to hold Pete’s eyes.

Then Pete looked behind him, and noticed something else.

He wasn’t tethered to the platform.

It was almost funny. Of all the people who had ever gone up on those platforms, Pete was the one they deemed stable enough not to fall. And that was stable in the sense of being surefooted, and also in the sense of being clearheaded. But still, Pete wasn’t going to try something like that.

_Stupid, useless idiot. They didn’t even bother to tie you down. They don’t care if you live or die. No one does._

No, of course not. Pete wasn’t nearly stupid enough to even go near the edge, much less jump off of it. Things were different now. He knew people cared about him.

_You’re a horrible bassist. You’re a horrible person._

Pete glanced at Patrick, hoping the little supernova of a man would provide him with some comfort.

_Ha! You had your chance, asshole. But you were too fucking insecure to admit to him that you were gay, and now you’re both married. To girls. Not each other. And it’s gonna stay that way forever._

Pete loved Patrick. He always had. Whether it was as a friend, or romantically, he wasn’t even sure. But he knew he had to stay on the platform. For Patrick.

_No, not for Patrick, you dickhead. You’re only staying up here for yourself. You only keep leading your miserable life because you want to hold on to that last sliver of hope that you even have a chance with him. Get over yourself. You blew it. You blew it ten fucking years ago._

Pete took a step closer to the edge of the platform. He stared out at the cheering crowd. He couldn’t do it. Not in front of them.

_Why not? It’s not like your music dies with you._

Pete took another step forward.

_Keep going. If they really cared about you, they would have noticed what you were doing by now._

Pete had to admit, the voice had a point. He walked up to the edge of the platform.

_This is all it would take. Just one more step. One more step, and you give everyone the ending they deserve._

Pete felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. He turned his head to see Patrick’s bright, smiling face right next to his.

Everyone was cheering. The song had ended. Pete wasn’t sure if they were cheering for the song, or for him and Patrick looking at each other (peterick shippers are pretty desperate), but he didn’t really care which.

“Don’t fall,” Patrick whispered to Pete.

Pete didn’t say anything in reply. He just nodded slowly. Then, Patrick’s hand held tightly in his own, he stepped away from the edge of the stage as it sunk back down to the ground.

“Do you wanna go backstage for a bit?” Patrick asked as they walked off the platforms onto the main stage.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you need some time to… well…” Patrick struggled to find the words. “To collect your thoughts. You know.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Pete agreed. “Two minutes?”

“Sounds reasonable.”

Pete and Patrick walked backstage. Joe announced to the audience that there would be a “brief intermission” while Pete and Patrick “sorted something out”.

The two of them sat backstage. Pete leaned in close to Patrick, and Patrick gently patted Pete on the shoulder.

“What happened out there?” he asked Pete.

“I’m not sure,” Pete replied. “It was like I was being pulled toward the edge or something.”

“Were you going to jump off?”

“Jump off? No, of course not! That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it?”

Pete sighed. Patrick was right. He felt bad for going so close to the edge, he felt bad for scaring Patrick, he felt bad for causing the impromptu intermission.

“Wait,” Patrick said suddenly. He rushed over to another corner of the backstage area and came back with a box, which he gave to Pete.

“I got you something. I was gonna wait until the end of the show to give it to you, but I thought it might cheer you up.”

“Wow, thanks,” Pete exclaimed. He smiled as he took the lid off the gift.

Inside the box was a shirt. Actually, it was more of a blouse. It was mostly pale green, and covered in a flowery pattern that looked almost painted on. Pete stared at it. Then he stared at Patrick.

“Do you like it?” Patrick asked.

“Are you kidding? Of course,” Pete replied. “Dude, I wanna wear it right now.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Patrick told him. “Put it on under your jacket. That way people don’t know you’re wearing it.”

“Why would I not want people to know?”

“Well…”

“I guess so,” Pete sighed.

Pete took off his jacket, pulled on the blouse over his shirt, and briefly glanced at himself before putting his jacket back on.

“Pretty,” Patrick observed, nodding approvingly.

“Yeah,” Pete agreed. “Pretty awesome.”

And with that they walked back onstage and continued playing the set as normal.

Another intermission was called a bit later. At least this one was planned. Not that it mattered to the audience.

“Pete, did you change your shirt?” Joe asked.

“Yeah,” Pete replied. “Why?”

“What’d you change it to?”

Pete briefly unbuttoned his jacket to show him. Joe laughed.

“Oh, Pete,” he said lovingly, shaking his head. “Forever our little pretty-boy.”

“Little?” Pete exclaimed. “I’m older than you!”

“Whatever,” Joe responded. “It’s a cool shirt though, don’t get me wrong.”

Pete smiled.

“You should take off your jacket,” Andy suggested. “Show off your fashion sense.”

“I do have great fashion sense,” Patrick thought aloud.

“Go for it,” Joe agreed.

Pete nodded. He took off his jacket. Then he, Joe, Andy, and Patrick walked back out on stage.

People cheered even louder than before. Of course they all still cared about Pete. They cared about him regardless of his stupid bass playing, his inconvenient intermission breaks, and his fashion choices.

And that was the best thing to Pete. That people cared about him. It made him relieved that he didn’t fall.


End file.
